Search for Neverland
by LovelyLoreley
Summary: Maria, a young woman who feels little acceptance at home, runs away to try herself on the seas as a pirate. Rumors abound of a land, concealed behind a never-ending storm, where faeries exist and no one ages. Determined to see this land for herself, Maria vows to sail through the storm, but other forces may be getting in the way...
1. Prologue

Prologue

A soft knock sounded at my door. I bade the person enter, and Mother's smiling face appeared over my shoulder in the mirror.

"I am so glad you decided to return to us," she murmured as she kissed my hair.

I turned to face her, searching in her eyes for the words she wouldn't speak aloud. "You knew, didn't you? All along, you knew why I left…"

Her gentle smile made the corners of her eyes crinkle. "What did I know? That you snuck off almost nightly before you took to the seas? That on those nights you met up with others of our kind to perform rituals? Of course I did, my darling Maria. You didn't really think you could hide it from me." It was not a question, but I answered her anyway.

"No," I admitted, "I didn't really think I could hide forever. I tried, though, because I was afraid you would be disappointed in me. That's why I left, of course," I continued, turning back to the mirror. "I was so restless; I needed to get away. But you just said 'our kind' didn't you? Which means…"

"Yes. It means that I, too, am a witch. You probably get most of the magic in your blood from me, although your father has witches in his bloodline as well."

"Does that mean Elizabeth is as well?"

Mother quieted for a minute, and I watched her expression turn thoughtful. "No. I don't believe your sister is an active witch. She has enough magic in her blood to be one if she chooses, but I do not think she will ever follow that path."

I nodded in agreement, mouth too full of hairpins to even mutter a response. Her soft laugh tinkled behind me, and I closed my eyes, reveling in the presence of her that I missed so much these past few years. She stepped up behind me and gently tugged my hair from my hands.

"Come with me. I doubt any of the dresses in your closet will fit you any more. I think I have something that will look lovely on you."

I followed her obediently, knowing that what she said was true. Unless I was planning on wearing my salt-stained pirate skirts, I had nothing for tonight's ball.

Mother took me to her chambers and bade me sit while she went into her large closet to search for something. I waited. When she came out, she held a wrapped package in her arms, and a beautifully carved wooden box. She set the box on her vanity and carefully removed the wraps from the package to reveal to most stunning dress I had ever seen.

"Oh Mother!" I gasped. It was made of deep blue silk, layered so that the color grew darker as the skirts lengthened. The sleeves looked like they would barely float on my shoulders, and ballooned out at the ends like the dresses of famous gypsies. The corset for the dress was black as pitch, with sky blue lace up the front and back.

"Do you like it?" she asked, as her eyes laughed at me.

"Like it? Wherever did you get it? It's the most perfect dress I've ever seen, and I've seen many dresses." I murmured this in awe.

"Your father had it made for me when we first began our courtship. I'm afraid it would be a bit tight on me now," she patted her stomach regretfully, and I giggled like a little girl. "I'd like you to have it."

She pressed the soft fabric into my hands, willing me to try it on. I stepped behind the dressing screen and hung Mother's dress from the top. Unlacing the satin straps of my worn red corset, I shimmied until my petticoats fell from my waist to the floor. The red skirts gathered there in a pile, dusty from travel, and it felt as though I were leaving my old life of piracy for one of grandeur and beautiful dresses. But that was ridiculous, because this was only to be a short visit, and nothing could prevent my leaving once more. Shaking my head in a silent self-remonstration, I pulled Mother's dress off the screen and slipped the petticoats over my head. They fell smoothly to my hipbones, gathering in soft waves as they fell about my legs. The skirts were a bit long perhaps, but it was nothing a good pair of boots wouldn't fix. Of course, attempting to wear seafaring boots to a courtly ball probably wouldn't be the smartest idea.

I noticed, as I slipped my arms into the sleeves of the bodice, that a swirling pattern of slightly lighter blue wound its way all across the chest piece. It was mesmerizing. I wrapped the corset behind myself and began to lace it up. When I was finished with the complicated act of appearing fashionably dressed, I stepped from behind the screen.

Mother was sitting on her bed with the carved wooden box in her hands, turning it over and over. I sat beside her and she pulled me close for a hug. "I have one more thing for you, darling," she smiled at me, and I suddenly felt the strong urge to tell her no, that was all right, but she had already done enough for me. She had welcomed me in with open arms after I had run away all those years ago without a word. I had never expected a warm reception, so the fact that she was still acting like a loving mother was slightly overwhelming. She placed the box in my open palm.

It weighed hardly anything at all, and the entire surface was carved into a single writhing Celtic knot. It was even more mesmerizing than the dress sleeves, and I could not but stare at it for some minutes. Mother waited patiently, but even she could not hold out forever. She cleared her throat and my eyes flicked to her face. She gestured to me that, perhaps, I should try opening the box. I undid the catch and raised the lid.

Inside was a beautiful object that I first took to be a brooch. It was made of twisted silver and inlaid with amethyst stones. They formed the mark of the triple Goddess, a symbol sacred to our kind. I knew at once that it must have been another gift from my father, for as Mother removed it from the box, she handled it like a fragile butterfly. It wasn't until Mother pushed on my shoulder to turn my back to her, and began combing her fingers through my hair, that I realized the "brooch" was actually a hair ornament.

I had almost forgotten the magick Mother's hands could work with hair. Her soft brush strokes were rhythmic and slow, calming me without catching on my tangles. Then she gathered my loose curls, and with a few twists had my locks pinned up in a way that they flowed elegantly over my right shoulder. It was so different from the salt and wind tangled mess that I was used to! I turned to give Mother a careful hug, letting her know from my actions what I was too embarrassed to say aloud; how sorry I was that I had left her, and how sorry I'd be when I wandered off again. "I love you so much," I murmured into her neck.

We walked arm in arm down to the Banquet Hall, where tonight's feasting and dancing would take place. "Remind me again why I'm doing this?" I asked Mother, only half kidding.

She squeezed my arm reassuringly. "Because the neighboring lords have come here to Port Royal for a series of games and competitions relating to this year's bountiful harvest. It was your father's idea. Or perhaps the hands of the gods have played a part, for they must have known you were planning on coming home. Maybe this is really for you."

"How so?" I queried.

"Well, Goddess knows you've been traveling the world for some time, and I have no problem with that but look at you! The wildness of your freedom has turned you into some kind of enchanting nymph! Any man would be immensely pleased to have you, but it would be best to find one now, before your golden years begin to dim."

I gaped at her. "What? Who said I wanted to marry and settle down? Maybe I like being free to make my own choices, hmmm? Of course, _you_ found exactly what you wanted in Father; he respects you and values your witchcraft. I wager I would want the same thing, but in my experience men like _that_ are extremely hard to come by."

Mother was quiet for a moment, but when she finally spoke, it was not her own voice that issued from her mouth. It was a voice I had only heard twice before, and I knew that Mother was being used as a vessel to carry the message of one of the gods. "Perhaps, child, you should look a bit deeper to find what you truly need. You say you wish to be valued and respected, but have you done the same for others? Be willing to give second chances, and remember all that I have shown you. I never give advice without reason."

That shut me up, and a few seconds later Mother's eyes unclouded. She gave a polite cough, saying, "Oh dear me. The spirits were beckoning...I'm sure you know what that's like. Sorry, dear, what were you saying?"

I shook my head the tiniest bit. "Nothing, Mother. You are right, of course. The gods have been scheming on this for a while, I dare say..."

With that, we strode into the hall, ready to oversee the final preparations for tonight's events. I could not help but to wonder who might be attending this ball, for the Goddess' words still rang in my ears, accompanied by the strong feeling that the 'second chances' I needed to give would have to happen tonight.

It was not hard to find Father, as he was standing on the dais directing serving boys and girls in the placing of the high tables and chairs, for many guests would be present in our humble home tonight. After giving Father a quick kiss of greeting, I left him with Mother to finish directing the setting of places, and headed to the kitchen.

Of all the people here, except perhaps Mother and Father, the one I had missed most was one of the maids. She had been my personal server, but was moved to the kitchens after I ran away. I wanted to be able to talk quietly for a few minutes before things got so chaotic that I'd be lucky to even see a familiar face.

A quiet conversation was probably too much to ask for. When I entered the kitchens, I realized they were more hectic than even the ballroom would ever get. Serving boys and girls rushed here and there, putting the finishing touches on countless dishes that they would be setting on the tables in less than an hour. I then understood that our household must have grown immensely since I had left, for I couldn't remember having seen so many servants in my entire life, not even at the slave ports in Africa. It would be impossible for me to find one girl in this big of a mess.

As if my thoughts had conjured her (and maybe they had, because I have no idea what I'm capable of when it comes to witchery), Maera appeared in front of me, flour coating her apron and face, with arms wide open for a hug. I hesitated, wondering if flour would show terribly on this dress, and decided it probably would. Maera saw this at the same time and ran off to wash (or dust) herself off, and returned with clean hands and no apron. This time I didn't hesitate, but welcomed her with opened arms. We laughed.

"Oh Maria! It's ever so great to see you, where have you been? You simply _must_ tell me all about it, but not just now because Cook'll have my head if even one thing isn't perfect for tonight." She gave me a meaningful look that piqued my curiosity, so I followed her as she rushed down the lines inspecting each dish laid before her.

"What was that look for? You know something you aren't telling me!" I accused her playfully. She gave me a searching look over her shoulder, and her eyes widened as she realized that I was speaking the truth. I had no idea what she had been referring to.

"Did she not tell you? I probably shouldn't say anything then, dear, I mean she must have some reason for not telling you." I didn't have to ask to know that she was talking about my mother. Maera and I had such a strong connection that I swear we could read each other's thoughts. "Oh all right then. But you mustn't say a word of what I tell you. About a month ago," here she lowered her voice conspiratorially, "your mother had a vision of you dancing here with some man. And than it flashed forward to show you married happily with this guy, all because you happened to meet him during one of those dances where you switch partners. So she orchestrated to have a ball soon after your projected return, which she thought would be about a week ago. You almost missed it, and what a tragedy that would have been!"

"But...but Maera, you must just being hearing the gossip of the town! Mother told me this whole get-together had been Father's idea from the start!"

"Well, yes, it was. When she said she wanted a ball thrown for your homecoming, the mayor thought it would be better to hold it as a city event, with games and competitions to attract as many folks as possible, seeing as no one has a clue who your lovely might be."

I knew it. I just knew it. Mother hadn't been telling me everything, but I never would have thought she would go this far for me. What had I done to deserve this? Run away, lost all contact with home, rumors spreading of my illicit activities. Then I had come home unannounced after years, and she was still trying to make my life as perfect as possible? She had seen me with some stranger at a ball, so what did she do? She arranged a lavish celebration in hopes that at the ball she hosted, I would find this man. It was too much. I sat down on the cleanest chair I could find and buried my face in my palms. I wanted to cry.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 – A Ship Comes Sailing

I crawled out of my window by the light of a nearly full moon and walked down to the shore. Dipping my feet in, I waited alone. It seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes before he showed up. I was staring out over the waves and did not hear his soft steps until he was right behind me and his hands encircled my waist.

His breath tickled my ear as he whispered, "Dresden is getting so much better. Thank you."

I turned in his arms so that our noses brushed together. "So are there any side effects tonight? The moon is almost full…"

"Nothing to speak of; he sleeps soundly." Relief spread through me at those words. Dresden was like a little brother to me, and if that werewolf bite had changed him, I could never have forgiven myself. I knew that Cameron, Dresden's older brother and the reason that the kid had been wandering in the forest that night, would never have forgiven himself either. Luckily it seemed that the cleansing potion I had brewed for him had purified his blood before the poison of the werewolf's fangs had set in.

I sighed contentedly and laid my head on his chest. My skirts swirled and flared in the light breeze, and but for that, Cameron and I were alone. He pulled me down onto the sand, but I sat up, looking at him seriously. "Father wants to marry me off now that I'm fifteen." I had to be blunt, had to get the words out. His eyes widened as he sat now too, all trace of teasing gone.

"No…" The pain in his voice was palpable. Although Cameron was three years older than me and had a respectable job on the docks, we both knew my father was unlikely to allow Cameron to have my hand. It was something we had known a year ago when we began meeting in secret, but now the truth of it was staring us in the face.

"Yes, and supposedly a suitor is coming tomorrow, the son of one of Father's friends." There was no way that I would allow my father to arrange my marriage, but that didn't mean that things could work out the way I wanted them to. "I have to leave, I think. Mother and I have tried to reason with him but there is no changing his mind. If I stay, he will marry me off to this boy, I am sure of it."

Cameron looked down, playing with the fingers on my left hand. "Didn't you once tell me that your parents married for love?"

"Yes, but that was different. My mother was a poor village girl and as Father wasn't the firstborn of his family, it mattered not whom he married. His position stayed the same, whereas when a girl marries, she takes on her husband's status."

"And I have no status, not without property. But I cannot leave with you; I must take care of Mother and Dresden. Mother is too weak to even leave her bed and Father is always off in faraway lands, trading. Besides, where would you go, my love?"

"I do not know, but I will not be married," I said firmly.

Cameron looked at me, and something in his eyes made my stomach twist. "Maybe we should stop fooling ourselves," he said slowly. "This isn't going to work between us. I'll never be good enough for your father's blessing. I think you should at least try to get to know this suitor. Who knows, you may fall in love with him." His lips twisted into a bitter smile.

"But I-"

He interrupted me. "No, love. This – this thing we have, it isn't really love. I mean, you've never even been kissed by someone besides me. I'm holding you back. Some things just aren't meant to be."

"So," I looked at him, really looked. He seemed to be deadly serious, and the thought made tears spring to my eyes. "You don't want us to try anymore? Fine. That doesn't change the fact that I won't marry a noble. Noble life is so boring. I'd much rather have fun and adventures with someone like you, and if I can't have you, I'm sure if I wander long enough I'll find someone else."

At that he laughed cruelly, and the sudden shift from his earlier demeanor caught me off guard. He was pushing me away! How had that happened? "Okay, try to leave. You wouldn't last two seconds on your own."

"Well, if that thought gives you pleasure, then I'm sure you'll love the sight of my dead body when it's brought back to the village. Because that's the only way you'd see it," I retorted, getting angrily to my feet. I was _not_ going to let him play with me. I started to stalk off but stopped short when I heard a shout from the village. Cameron and I turned as one, and that image will remain frozen in my mind for many days to come. Part of the village was lit with an eerie orange glow, and smoke rose from a few of the buildings. A ship had berthed at the docks, a ship carrying a tattered black flag with a skull and crossed bones that glowed in the moonlight. Pirate ship! The village was under attack.

We ran together, back towards the streets. We could hear the shouts of the village men as well as screams from the women and children. A few shots burst forth in the darkness, and I practically flew across the sand, easily outrunning Cameron. I knew instinctively that he would head straight for his house. I ran toward the burning part of the village, a wild plan beginning to form in my mind.

I reached the smoke filled street and began to cough. My foot knocked into something on the pavement and I fell, rolling between the burning buildings. Someone hauled me roughly to my feet. Before I could get my bearings, there was a pistol pressed beneath my jaw. The pirate held me roughly by the hair and addressed his adversaries.

"Now, now, let's not be hasty," he said smoothly. "Drop the weapons or she dies." The smoke cleared a little, enough for me to recognize three of the men standing there, staring at me in horror. I heard one gun fall to the cobblestones, then another. "That's better," the pirate said, dragging me backward but keeping me between him and the men. We backed down the streets toward the docks.

Our slow progress must have looked like some hideous dance. The pirate and I would step back once and the men would follow, dazed and unsure what was happening. More pirates joined the one who held me, until we all stood in front of the ship silently waiting.

There came a shout of "No!" from my right, just as I recognized my father running down the street to my left, yelling "Get away from my daughter!" The pirate laughed cruelly, tightening his hold.

He addressed my father. "I don't really want to let go of her though. She's a beauty, isn't she? I've half a mind to take her with me."

"No!" The protest came again, and we turned so that I could clearly see Cameron staring at me in shock. "Give her back!"

More of the villagers started to speak, a rumble of assent going through the crowd. I took advantage of the noise to murmur at my captor. "Please." He looked down at me, bemused. "Please, take me with you." The bemusement turned to surprise, but he looked willing enough, so I pressed my case. "Please, I need to leave town. Anywhere you take me would be better than here."

At that moment, Cameron jumped forward and grabbed my arm. "I said give her back." The pirate opened his mouth but I beat him to it.

"What?" I asked Cameron coldly, "do you think you own me? You have no claim on me." The wounded look in his eyes only goaded me further. "Don't stand there acting so hurt. You said what you wanted to say earlier. There is nothing more to say."

"No," he protested, "Maria, all I wanted-"

"Was to move on." I didn't let him finish. I had to be careful not to reveal our relationship, or things could get ugly for Cameron. Even if he was cruel by the waters, I did not want him to suffer for things that were said tonight. "I get it, okay? All you wanted was help for your sick brother, and now that he's healing, you have no use for me. I was yours while you needed me, but no longer."

"All I wanted was you!" He burst out, angrily.

"Right. And yelling at me in front of my father is _really_ helping you out there." I could feel soft vibrations through my back and assumed the pirate was laughing at us.

Father spoke then, interrupting our conversation. "Enough of this. Let go of my daughter or my men will shoot and kill every single one of you!" I could tell he was blustering as he stepped forward, and one of the pirates must have sensed the same thing. A shot rang out behind me, and suddenly there was blood blossoming on Father's arm. I noticed Mother standing behind him when she screamed, loud and piercing. She and two other women led Father away to be bandaged. Now was my chance.

I turned, wrenching my arm from the pirate's grasp, to face him and place my arms on his chest. "I'll go with you. I swear, you can take me, and do whatever you want with me, if you only leave the rest of these folk alone."

He looked down at me, considering, his hands absently coming up to cover my own. They ran up my arms, over my shoulders, and down the exposed skin of my chest. I shivered as Cameron growled behind me. The pirate looked up at that and smirked, baring his teeth. "Very well. We'll take you. A fine trade I think. You'll be much more fun than a bunch of dead men." We turned together, and I slipped my hand into the crook of his arm as he led me toward the ship.

"Maria, you can't just leave!" Cameron exclaimed behind us. It was my turn to growl. "You belong here."

I whipped around to glare at him. "Belong here? What, with you? I don't think so, dear. I told you I would leave, and these men present the perfect opportunity. You give me no reason to stay." I turned around, ignoring his words, but I could not ignore the look on his face. In that moment I knew – I don't know how I knew, but I knew – that he hadn't meant those words on the beach. He had loved me, hadn't wanted to push me away. He had wanted to dissuade me from leaving. But I would not be persuaded to change my mind.

I knew the future that faced me in that village. Frankly, the prospect of traveling with pirates excited me. It was a gamble, having promised myself to the men, but I trusted in my powers to keep me safe. The pirate hoisted me onto the deck of the ship and waved jauntily at the villagers as his men prepared to sail.


	3. Chapter 2

A Pirate's Life

When we were out of sight of the port, the pirate who had grabbed me began to laugh, and the others soon joined him.

"Care to join my crew, love?" he asked me gallantly after a bit. "You sure are a fine little actress."

"Actress? I don't know what you mean," I protested stubbornly.

I watched in fascination as he grabbed a bucket of water and dipped his hands in, rubbing the clear liquid over the lower half of his face. When his hands came away, he no longer looked like a scruffy pirate; in fact, his beard stubble had all but vanished. Another handful of water got rid of the last of it, and before me stood a boy who couldn't have been but a few years older than I. "Aye, an actress. Do you really think that if we had wanted to terrorize the village that we'd have taken you as a fair trade?"

The others laughed again, but it was a kind laugh, not a harsh one, and they all gazed at me merrily. They had all done as their captain (for he was clearly their leader, and what else would I call the leader of a band of sailors?) had, and wiped years from their faces. They all stood before me now as clean-shaven boys. One came up and handed me a flask. I took a cautious sip and sighed. Rum, of course.

The first boy continued to speak. "We really wouldn't have done anything to you. Only, you seemed so keen to come along, yes?"

Another boy interrupted. "Aye, we was only using you as a distraction while we stole jewels and coins from the big house up on the hill. We needed the funding."

"Yes. I was all ready to let you go, but…you asked me to bring you along. Whereabouts are you headed?" the first boy asked me, glaring at the one who had interrupted him.

"Wherever you plan to be heading, of course. All I needed was to leave the village, so it is entirely up to you now. Either take me with you or drop me off at some port, I could hardly care less where I end up. And that was my house by the way!" I responded immediately.

"With us it is then!" The boy grinned pleasantly and offered me his arm, ignoring my last comment. We walked along the deck and up a set of stairs, stopping before a door. "Now, seeing as this is the room for the first mate, and seeing as I don't have one; and seeing as it would be improper-like for you to be sleeping below decks with the crew, what say you these be your living quarters?"

He opened the door and led me into the small room. There was a bed in one corner, a desk in another, and a cabinet against the far wall. The space was crowded, but at least it was private. I thanked him gratefully. "I'm Maria by the way," I told him as we stood there.

"Now, now, that'll never do." He said decisively. "Maria's a fine name for a lady, to be sure, but not for a pirate. You'll have to come up with something better. Captain James Merlander here, at your service." He winked at me. "You can call me Jem though, dearie, that's what the crew does."

"Well then, Jem, if you dislike my name so much, what do you suggest instead?" I asked him.

He studied me appraisingly. "You mistake me, love, I never said I disliked your name, just that it won't do for a pirate lass. So you need a new one to build a reputation on, you see? How about Scarlett? You do look simply ravishing in that red dress. Or perhaps Shakira. I heard it means thankful in some language or other, and you are thankful to get away aren't you? Yes, I quite like the name Shakira; it has a certain ring to it. What do you say, love?"

"I think you should stop calling me love," I responded slowly, considering the name. Jem was right, it did sound nice. But was it something I could ever answer to?

"Ah, of course, sorry about that. You're in love with that boy, aren't you lass? The one that yelled at me?" Jem grinned mockingly.

"Perhaps I was once. But, then, I was Maria at the time and I'm certainly not her now. He is merely a distant memory."

Jem's eyes lit peculiarly at the words and he grabbed my waist flirtatiously. "Shakira suits you, you know, it has fire. Like your eyes." He turned and left the cabin, shutting the door with a decisive click behind him.

I was rooted to the spot, my last declaration still ringing in my ears. It had been said with my lips but not my heart, for I knew that no matter how many miles I sailed from shore, or how many years passed without him, I would never forget Cameron. I simply hoped that I some point, I could stop loving him. "Shakira it is, then," I muttered, and sank wearily onto the lumpy bed.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Tortuga

I woke with a start at the sound of a closing door. My cabin was dark, but I felt certain it was my own door that had creaked just a moment ago. The bottom corner of my bed sank as someone sat on it. My breath caught in my throat.

"Shakira, darling, are you awake?" I let out a gasp of relief as I recognized Jem's voice.

"Jem! You scared me! Yes, I am awake." I could practically feel him grinning beside me as his hand found mine with a reassuring squeeze.

"Oh, please. You act as if I didn't know you sleep with a dagger under your pillow. Anyway, get dressed. We're here, and I want to show you around without the boys getting in the way." My mattress lifted and light briefly cracked through my room as he slipped out the door.

With a snap of my fingers, I lit the candles in the sconces on my walls. I couldn't believe that after two weeks of sailing, we were here. Tortuga. I had heard so much about this pirate haven from the crew that I was more than eager to see it for myself.

Since leaving Port Royal, we had stopped at two other seaside towns. At one of them I had conspicuously entered a few shops and bought dress materials while the boys looted elsewhere, so that I could have a change of clothes on the seas. I chose one of those dresses now, consisting of a black off-the-shoulders shirt, a belted black skirt, and layers of bright red flounces. I had altered a black corset to fit over the shirt, and had died a white ribbon red with blood to lace up the corset. I laced myself as tightly as I could and stepped out onto the deck.

Jem was waiting for me, leaning over the railing. He looked back at the sound of my footsteps and grinned widely. He gave me a mock bow and grabbed my hand, roughly pulling me forward to plant a kiss on the back of my palm. He tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow as we descend to the island.

It was noisy, so much noisier than anything I had ever experienced. I wanted to cover my ears but knew that if I stuck with Jem, I would just have to get used to the noise. And the chaos. And the _stench_. I had thought the crew smelled bad – I was wrong. The smell of the people in Tortuga was atrocious. I saw pigs in a sty by the side of the road, and I could swear they smelled better than the people.

Jem pulled me into a dark doorway I hadn't noticed at first, and we walked up a set of stairs until we entered a crowded room. The place was packed with people – people dancing, people drinking, people singing, people snoring on their neighbors' shoulders. Jem led me over to a bar, picked up two bottles of dark liquid, and then pulled me out onto a balcony.

"Here," he said, unstopping both bottles and shoving one toward my chest. He took a giant swig from the other. "So. What do you think so far? How do you like Tortuga?"

I hesitated before answering, not sure how honesty would be accepted in this case. "Is it always like this?" I hedged, sipping from the bottle.

"Oh, yeah. It's bloody brilliant, really. You get used to the smell, I promise." He smiled crookedly at me.

"In that case, I think I like it," I laughed, feeling a slight buzz running through my body, "since you promise that I'll get used to it." He laughed as well, squeezing my waist and pulling me toward him. We stared over the balcony in silence for a minute or so, drinking and watching the starlight reflected on the ocean.

"Shakira, would you answer me a question as honest as you could?" Jem asked, his words slightly slurred.

"Of course!" I look at him, surprised that he would have to ask – and surprised that I am getting used to my new name.

"That boy from Port Royal…did you really mean it when you said you had no feelings for him?" Jem's voice was anxious and his tone unsure, something that I hadn't expected. Perhaps the drink was loosening his tongue.

"Well," I paused, considering how to answer him. He had said he wanted honesty, and I supposed he deserved as much. "No, I guess I wasn't entirely truthful when I told you that." Jem abruptly looked away, but I pushed on, needing to explain myself. "I did love him. I guess you could say I thought he was the one definite thing in my future. But my father wanted me to marry a, shall we say _respectable_ man, and Cameron was not someone of whom my father would approve." I winced realizing that the liquor had loosened my tongue as well. "I told Cameron as much mere minutes before you arrived, and I told him that I'd likely have to leave Port Royal if I wanted to choose whom to marry, for Father informed me only that morning that a suitor, the son of one of his friends, would be coming shortly to our manor. I couldn't bear the thought –"

"I'll wager your Cameron didn't like that one bit, did he?" Jem looked back at my face and grinned, but the smile didn't touch his eyes.

"No, he didn't," I agreed slowly, remembering that night. "In fact, he told me that perhaps things were not working between us so well as he had thought. He decided he was holding me back, and urged me to move on. So you see, it was not I who really left him in the town, it was he who left me in private. Whether he meant it or not, he cannot take back the words that were said. I suspect he did not think I would really leave, and that perhaps if we ceased to meet in secret, my heart would be at ease. He was wrong."

Jem had gone back to staring out over the balcony, and I waited for him to say something, anything, to break the mounting tension. He remained silent.

"It was the thought of marrying anyone I did not love that repulsed me," I finally continued. "I know now that I do not live for Cameron's love. But I feel as though I have loved him so long…it will take some time, I know, to forgive him what he said. And until then, I do not know that I will be able to move on. But I am trying, really. I certainly do not wish to pine for a man who is so inconstant in his love for me."

Slowly, as though he had all the time in the world, Jem turned to look at me. His gaze was steady, searching; I could feel his eyes graze over my body as if they were actually touching me. He leaned back against the railing and his bottle clinked against a post. It was empty; mine had only a few gulps left. "James, say something." I finally urged, uncomfortable in the silence.

He smiled then, a slow, crooked smile that made me shiver. He threw his bottle toward the ocean, then grabbed mine and did the same. _I wasn't done with that,_ I wanted to protest, but he pulled me roughly against his body with arms too strong to evade. One of his hands was in my hair, and his breath tickled as he whispered in my ear, "I do _so_ love when you call me James."

His lips crushed against mine with a wild force that left me breathless. This kiss was nothing like Cameron's; it was intense and hungry, making me crush myself against him and tangle my fingers in his hair. We sank down to the floor of the balcony.


End file.
